


See Me As I Am

by TheShipDen



Series: Dog Days [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shops, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Siblings, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Dogs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Familiars, M/M, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, Pining, Touch-Starved Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900 Has a Different Name, Witch Hunters, Witches, basically Hank and Gavin are familairs, connor and hank are in like 1 scene tho, connor and rk900 are witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:24:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipDen/pseuds/TheShipDen
Summary: “I wanna be your familiar.”“You already were.” A kiss, against the crown of his head. The following one on his forehead.“I wanna be your’s, too.”“You can be, and I can be your’s."





	See Me As I Am

**Author's Note:**

> I sat down for like,,,,hours and wrote this,,,,all in one go so I hOPE my hyerfixation doesn't drag the editing I had to fookin do to it
> 
> its done tho, and thats all that matters!!
> 
>  
> 
> Also my friends have been screaming @ me to make nines be called niles (some fuckin twitter shit idk)  
> while someone else says Richard
> 
>  
> 
> u get both, wait till next fic--

The thunder cracks first; booming and loud, shaking the earth beneath his paws as he walks the desolate streets of the city. It’s always loud to his trained ears, just how sensitive they are in this form carries over to his more human appearance, only it’s slightly toned down. If for nothing else but his sanity. But in his familiar form, it’s always so present and alarming. He hates the storms, hates the noise. 

 

Rain falls. And he hates that even more. 

 

It’s slow at first, barely a drizzle but he can sense that it’ll only get worse. He tries to find shelter where he can- only no one wants a raggedy dog such as himself. The street life had not been kind, and people are no kinder when they yell and scream and swat at him to leave. The mud and muck clump in his coat and make him appear dirty, the rain now pelting against his sides makes him look ratty and disheveled. He longs for a bed and warm hands to help him get clean, aches for someone to scratch him right behind his ears and whisper praises to him. He misses having someone to protect and in return, they provide for him. 

 

But he no longer has that, and the streets welcome him as much as they could.

 

Gavin’s witch had been killed- and such a lovely lady she was. He had scars from the attack, wounds that he had licked clean that only further brought people to close their doors on him, scars now lay where they previously were. It seemed every witch or warlock or whatever the pissy bastards wanted to be labeled- didn’t want a dog when they could have cats. And Gavin always grumbled at the stupid preference. 

 

He was a large dog in this form, a German Shepard Doberman mix with a slight lean on the Shepard’s appearance. He was a beast of a breed, fiercer then anyone could imagine and loyal beyond a degree. He would have given his life for his previous witch if she had not sent him away- transporting him into a strange city that hunkered on metal life and other falsities. Witchcraft did not thrive here, and he wasn’t about to become a “normal person” and resign to such a shitty life. 

 

Lightning lit up the entire sky, the sharp rumble of thunder making his tail tuck between his legs, and the rain making his ears spin down. He hunched and watched the last of the cars before scurrying across the street, in a few quick dashes, he was on the pavement safely but soaking. 

 

Gavin shook his coat but it hardly made a damn difference, the rain kept falling- harder and harder, and there was no way he’d be clean. His fur would get tangled and look just ruffled, but at least some of the muck and mud would wash off. Small victories, he guessed and kept padding into the alleyway he had been eyeing. 

 

There was bins and boxes, discarded clothes and empty cans. Jackpot, in his eyes, hopefully he’d eat tonight. 

 

His paws were silent as he trudged along and sniffed at the remains of a knocked over can. Damn- seems like the local alleycats had licked them all clean. Which was fine, he could probably just beg another homeless human for some scraps, they were always nicer to him. He let them pet him too, because they seemed to understand and held a light in their eyes that he just fell for, and they always let him linger. Nap on their bags or cardboard boxes, and they talked to him too. Polite conversation even if they weren’t aware he was very lucid and aware of every word they were saying.

 

Sometimes they’d give him a name, tell him he was pretty or handsome, which he greedily ate up. He liked to be told he was a good boy or that his eyes were a lovely color for a dog, some humans were sad to see him trot off though in his mind he promised to return. One day, just to check in on them. 

 

As he drags bits and pieces of fabrics together, under the protection of some bins- he finds himself sighing. His bones ached and his pads were sore, he had walked the scale of half the city in search of the right direction to get back to his mistress’s place. But without knowing where he was and how he was going to eat next, getting to his hometown was proving to be quite a bitch. 

 

Gavin feels a presence then; walking towards the alley with someone else, a normie. He feels nothing but bad energy come from them, ill intent at its absolute finest, and with a low snarl. He stands. 

 

The rumbling and patter of rain and thunder make the perfect cover-up music for a crime, Gavin feels the arrogance rolling off the human as he softly paces closer and he decides right then that he knows the cocky feeling- because they are a hunter. The murderous psyche lines up and Gavin’s positive the witch might have no clue about what is about to transpire. 

 

As the mirth grows inside their aura, he puts a pep in his steps. Sprinting, muscles bunching as he bounds past street posts and buildings until he’s upon them. Just at the right moment- the hunter raises something sharp out of their pockets, the witch won’t have time to cast a spell or make a good defense. He barks, a low and menacing growl leaving his throat and he strengthens his strides. 

 

Both of the two-leg’s attention is on him now, but he’s already through the air in a powerful leap and his teeth sink into the arm brandishing the weapon. He holds on as they cry out in pain, they twirl and swear, their fist bat at his skull but he only snarls in warning and shakes his head. His teeth catch on their skin as he moves and he knows it’s painful. 

 

He only lets go when they pull a second, smaller dagger-like blade out and it catches him on the shoulder. To avoid any more harm, Gavin lets his grip go and he places himself in between the witch and the now bleeding fool.

His lip curls as he bares his teeth, barking and flexing his claws. His tongue laps at the blood on his mouth and he can tell there is dread inside that human. Fear as he inches closer and snaps at the air. He bunches himself to the ground, tensing his hackles and throws himself towards them again. 

 

He lands a hair away from them, ducks a wild swing from the knife, and bowls them over. The dagger flies from their grip and he bites into their ankle, dragging them around the corner of the alley and clawing at their chest- chomping and hissing until the negative vibes bleed from out of their aura. He knows they will not attempt anything more, so Gavin retreats and stands off to the side. 

 

He waits, between the witch and the hunter as the attacker stands shakily. 

 

“Fuck you!” They spat, and when Gavin paces forth once more, they start limping away as quick as they can with the injuries. 

 

The slice he took stings, calling for his attention now that his challenge has been defeated, and he grumbles. The hunger and soreness from earlier joining the mix as he sits on the cold, wet ground and nurses the wound. 

 

His ears shift, swerving to his side when footsteps echo across pavement. Gavin pauses, tongue mid-stroke on his spilt skin when someone sinks down to his level. Crouching, but not in his space. They give him room and stare, impassively, quiet in all forms. He feels no negative will from this stranger, and from this close, he knows they are powerful. 

 

He resumes his licking, electing to ignore the foolish imbecile and their steely blue eyes. It’s weird, and Gavin hates it whenever people look at him for long, so when he pushes up to leave on aching pads- they speak.

 

“You’re not just a regular dog, are you?” Their voice carries like smooth silk, edging on honeyed as it trickles into his ears over all the pouring rain. And he glares, not at all trusting the suaveness of this stranger. 

 

Gavin answers in a dip of his head, slow blink of the eyes that convey a yes. He’s still as they both just eye each other. 

 

“Then I suppose you know what I am, too.” What a fucking idiot. Of course Gavin knows he’s a god damn witch. 

 

He expresses as much with a quirked eyebrow, snappy lick of the blood surrounding his muzzle and a snort of his nose. His ears swivels away from this stranger, his body wanting rest and warmth. He should go back to his bed for the night and not waste any more time. He could be sleeping right now. 

 

As if sensing his thoughts to leave, again, the stranger speaks. “I am Niles, the weather is terrible as of late- and since you have committed a noble act, I wish to repay you. Will you accompany me home?”

 

Normally, he would say no. He’d bark or snap, walk away with a sagging tail and that would be that. But he was hungry and cold, his shoulder hurt as did his feet and he really didn’t sense anything funny inside the consciousness of this witch- this Niles. So…

 

He accepted.

 

______________________________________

 

“Gavin, get off the couch.”

 

He snorted, eyes smug as he made himself comfortable on the cushions. One paw over the other, head tilted up and high as he stared down the human from the cushions. 

 

“Gavin.” Niles said it in warning. 

 

 _“Boof!”_ He barked back, laying his head down to cement that he was not moving. 

 

It had to be the best decision to follow Niles home that night, because he now had a place and a purpose to hold him over. 

 

Niles, after the first week of Gavin’s stay, had forced him into a bath and scrubbed him clean. He had blow dried his coat and even brushed it out, and as Gavin stared in the bathroom’s mirror he felt a surge of pride at how well his fur looked. Just like it did with his old mistress, and Niles even seemed to adore it too. The witch's hands were gentle, which he appreciated, and tender as they worked the dirty off of his nimble body. Niles fed Gavin- not dog food, no, real food. The good stuff. The leg of a chicken, slices of steaks and some cut up vegetables that gave a satisfying crunch whenever he bit into them. Sometimes, he’d even toss a bit of chocolate or something really sweet. A treat, for no other reason then just the impulse habit of sharing. 

Though, sometimes, Niles would throw him cheese. And not any cheap shit, either. Really good cheese- shit was professionally cut and made, crafted and wrapped in something shiny that also was wrapped in something stringy. It smelled something awful but god, Gavin would be lying if he said he didn’t get a bit excited whenever Niles would cut some into pieces to sit on a platter. 

 

Must be the dog in him, but god forbid if he didn’t give a flying fuck. 

 

It had taken him a hot second to get used to the strange new witch, and the only thing then that had kept him was the free food and warm place- and _holy fuck_ the beds. 

 

Niles had royalty beds, the kind with the amazing mattress that made you feel like a damned prince with magical sheets that kept you warm and cozy. He’d be crazy to give it all up and return to the unforgiving streets. 

 

For the first time in a long ass time, Gavin felt pampered. 

 

Even now as he worked the very last nerve on the witch, he was feeling great- _thank you for asking._

 

“You are so difficult,” Niles mused. Losing the stern resolve and almost grinning, that tall fucker only needed to take a few steps to be already in the living room, one more to be at the sofa. He sank, graceful as ever, beside him. “I’m only letting you stay because you’re still clean. Surprisingly.”

 

Gavin huffed, he would tell him off and list how many occasions he had been clean before meeting Niles but as a dog- words were…only barks, sniffs, and the rare wheeze. Truthfully, he hadn’t shown Niles his human form for the almost month that he’s been living with him. He was more alert as a canine, took up less space, and he liked to think his breed was nice to look at. Gavin was a rugged human, and sure the look was kinda “cute” or whatever on a dog- but on a person? Niles might disagree. 

 

And he was scared to be rejected. 

 

Rejected by a kind, powerful witch that taunted and teased him for all his money. Bought him fluffy and padded dog beds, top dollar collars, toys, actual clothes, and even had a bedroom prepared for him just incase. Niles was also tall, taller then Gavin in both forms, and very well built. Not that he’d admit it out loud, but he’s watched Niles dress for the day and strip to his boxers at night- savored the sight and maybe slobbered on himself (He blamed the dog in him). He was attractive by all means; sharp facial features, dark chocolatey hair that was always styled perfectly- the small tuft that hung onto his brow only making it seem more fucking suave. And he was smart too, like, super fucking smart. 

 

He could always make out what Gavin wanted, which could get complicated at times. 

 

There’s no easy way to say ‘stop being a creepy bitch’ with no human vocal cords. But he had figured it out whenever Gavin clamps his paw onto whatever limbs’ available and stills his tail completely. 

 

He was perfect. And Gavin had grown attached despite himself. 

 

“I’m going to read, so if you need something,” and then he eyed Gavin. Those baby blues looked like gemstones when the sun caught them and made them shine like that. _“Politely-_ let me know.”

 

And then he threw his fucking legs on to his flanks. Cold ass feet inside thin cold ass socks. His head bolted up to look at the witch, ears flattened to express his fucking joy at that. What a dick. 

 

The absolute nerve. 

 

Gavin moved, wiggling out from under those eight-foot-long-death machines, and made himself comfortable on top of said legs. Niles always had the fucking coldest feet ever, really, Gavin had a theory they’d freeze and pop off one day. It, personally, offended him a great deal. 

 

He’d have to fix it. 

 

Naturally, he curled himself carefully, mindful that both parties were comfortable. This wasn’t the first time he’d done this, and Niles never ever protested so he assumed it was alright. Most of his lower half was warming up those fucking ice cubes while his top half was rested leisurely half nestled into the side of the couch and half on top of the witch’s body. His head went right at Nile’s thighs- if he weren’t so curled up, he’d be sitting about hip level- oh yeah. That was another thing. 

 

Niles was a fucking fantastic pillow. Gavin might have dozed off on him a few, well, a lot of times. 

 

His thighs were actually soft yet firm, a good balance with amazing support and the steady thrumming of blood in veins- the drum of magic coursing as strong as the force of an electric current, was too easy to be lulled to sleep to. Especially whenever Niles read to him and petted him. 

 

Oh that, fuck yeah- _that was the absolute dream._

 

He wanted that, a good thought. Mentally, he cheered for himself. 

 

His nose nudged the witch first, against the inside of his thigh. Blue eyes rose to meet his forest green ones, a brow quirking up and he looked as patient as ever. “Yes?”

 

Gavin pawed, a gentle knead that didn’t end with his claws grazing skin, nope. He pressed the digits of his pads, stretched his arm out to tap at the human stomach just out of his natural reach. His tail thumped, beating against feet that refused to be anything but ice. 

 

“Do you want me to read aloud?” At a whole body wiggle, Niles gave that small, tight lipped grin that was solely his and his alone. It made Gavin happy. Probably one of his favorite things to see. “Very well, but don’t blame me if you’re lost in the story.”

 

Then Niles began, and his reading voice was velvet. It was spicy where it needed to be, sweet when it was called for it, rushing when something exciting happened, full of sorrow when something particularly unfortunate happened, and calm when it was all over and the characters relaxed. 

 

Somewhere through the fucking rollercoaster of a plot, one hand left the book to rub lightly at Gavin’s head. Slender fingers roaming before adding pressure and scratching blunt nails over his coat. He melted into the touch, skin tingling with the feeling as a breathless sigh escaped his muzzle. He could die like this and be perfectly cool with it.

 

As he began to nod off, again, a thought entered his mind. Uninvited and chaotic with a flare of clarity and calm seas. 

 

Gavin would fight to keep this. 

 

He’d give tooth, nail, and his final breath to defend this. Make it last longer, and this time, he wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail Niles. He’d protect Niles, even if he hadn’t officially asked for Gavin to become his familiar, he’d do it anyways. Because Gavin liked him enough, liked this and the sweetness he had. Because he ached for it like nothing before-

 

He didn’t want to go back to the streets. He wanted to stay here, wrapped up in Niles, with a book and his damned feet and his soothing fucking voice and his dumbass good looks. 

 

______________________________________

 

The black collar was loose around his neck and the cool AC felt heavenly against his thick fur. 

 

Niles might’ve been a witch but not everyone really knew that, everyone pretty much knew him as the nice coffee shop guy. You heard him right, he had a fucking day job. At a coffee shop. The cliche cute ones with the browns and the R&B music with succulents and artwork and sofas. The ones with the organic, healthy breads and treats, the hipster baristas and cute little white whipped cream designs, or that creamer shit. 

 

Bonus, because animals were allowed inside. Niles owned an animal friendly coffee shop, the entire staff was witches-in-practicing and usually the customers they saw were other magic users. The animal allowance was for people like Gavin, familiars. 

 

Gavin liked the little place because it was quiet and he got to keep an eye out for anyone dangerous, he could leave whenever he wanted and walk the streets as long as he came back before the typical rush hours. Normally, he visited the homeless humans that had been kind to him, and normally he stole something from Niles’s back to bring to them. 

 

A lot of people, actually, pet him and talked to him. People would show him videos whether they were aware if he was a real dog or not and he really liked it, because they gave him food they didn’t want and preened over him. He got kisses and head pats, good boy's and handsome man’s, and the best fucking hour of his life. Because some people just knew where to scratch him to make him see stars. 

 

Currently, there was barely a soul in the shop. 

 

He was lounging by the shelf of coffee beans and other nutritional snacks just resting when the ding of a bell alerted- mainly anyone human because both him and Niles already knew- the remaining beings of a customer.

 

What got Gavin’s attention though was the power laced into the being, it hummed and sung to him- so familiar and sweet. His head popped up quick, body tense as the person’s heels made a noise against the tile. The second thing was, to his complete and utter shock, was that he had the same face as Niles. Same body type, if not a bit slimmer, and different clothes. 

 

This Niles had a pressed white button up and denim jeans that went well with his skin tone, and his Niles wore dark colors. Black turtle necks and jackets, slacks or Adidas sweatpants, always in the neutral colors. 

 

Gavin got up, and started slinking up to the stranger but before he could get too close, something stepped into his path. 

 

A big, large Scottish Deerhound. Bristled and observant, just the size of Gavin himself if not a bit bigger- a vibrant, clusterfuck of colors on a collar that just screamed something awful. He seemed familiar too, someone he might’ve known or crossed on the streets. Blue eyes, not as sharp as his witch’s but definitely flickering on steely. There was space between the two, and the person of interest that had started this whole interaction was gushing right behind the familiar. 

 

“Hank! Be nice to him- oh, Niles! Niles! Come here, come look!”

 

Gavin wanted to watch the other witch but he didn’t dare take his eyes away from the other familiar. He was a strong motherfucker, that much Gavin would bet his life on. If he did anything to Niles then he’d have his hands full, that was for sure. 

 

“Yes, Connor? What’s got you so wound up?”

 

He wouldn’t admit it, but he kind’ve felt himself relax a bit when Niles stepped out. Not that he couldn’t take on any fight he chose, but that, er- _back up_ was nice. Once in a while. 

 

“Is this the familiar that Hank’s been telling me about? Did you finally take one on?” He saw Hank tense, so he did too. 

 

“For lack of better words, you might as well say that.” A hand pressed down on Gavin's back, he ignored it, because Hank also ignored the one on his head. 

 

“Hank, stop that! You’re making a terrible first impression!”

 

Hank, the newly dubbed fucker, ignored his witch entirely and stepped forward. Gavin stayed where he was and felt the fucking stare-down Niles was giving him, he wasn’t suppose to start fights with another animal in the shop but hey! If Hank bit first it wouldn’t technically be Gavin’s fault. Instead, he kept as still as possible and followed the other dog closely with his eyes. 

 

The deerhound smelled him, grunted, and did it again. Gavin tentatively leaned forwards, nose flaring as he tried to get in a good sniff. Something about him just kept setting off alarms in Gavin’s brain, nothing bad but something that he should be piecing together and wasn’t. He felt like he was missing something, so he took a step himself and tried another pass. 

 

He felt stupid, frustrated because something….something just…

 

“Runt? That you?” Gruff voice, raspy in it’s drawl as it fanned out. Of course neither Niles or -what was it? Connor?- could hear or understand. Being a familiar was basically being versed in a whole new universe of different languages and body positions. 

 

Suddenly, it clinked. “Well I’ll be damned!! How have you not kicked the can yet?”

 

Both dogs barked, a bit yappy sounding, which kinda startled both their owners. Hank’s tail was wagging, the fucking rat tail that it was, and Gavin was shifting on his paws. Both witches seemed confused at the change, but they still got ignored. 

 

“How did you even fuckin’ get here, pipsqueak? Last I saw you, you were with that other witch, what was it, Gracie? You grew the fuck up!”

 

Gavin howled at the nickname, grumbling in his own right and padded away from the old hag. Hank followed, a slow shuffle to his steps as they rounded a corner and entered a room that was for the employees breaks. Only, Gavin had a bed there, because he also needed his breaks. Niles seemed to agree.

 

“Stop callin’ me that, fuckwad.”

 

He flopped onto his back, using his upside down paws to lightly bat against the other’s greying muzzle if only to make a point. He must look crazy to Hank, all big and scarred, bratty and large. In a way, it was wild for Gavin to see Hank so…different. They hadn’t parted on good terms, Hank had been in a bad spot. 

 

Suddenly those eyes softened as Hank settled down beside him, rasping his paw to cuff Gavin’s ear. “Why’re you with Niles? What happened to Gracie- what happened to _you?”_

 

He shouldn’t have asked that, and Gavin shouldn’t answer it. 

 

He wasn’t going to, really, but something in his chest tightened. He blamed it on his vulnerabilities, cursed it on his weak will and starving needs, accused the familiarity that Hank brought that he so far has yet to find. It was like something inside of him had been building up unknowingly for the past months, the weeks, the days and minutes. A crack that had held together until now. The world stopped turning and the sun stopped shining and Gavin was forced to face a mountain of growing emotions alone, and he hadn’t had the chance to consider it before. Hadn’t made the time. Hadn’t felt like he should. 

 

“She-,” It wasn’t a hard question, except, it tore something inside him. “She’s dead, Hank. And I really don’t fuckin’ know how I got here.”

 

Hank was silent. He felt a tongue lap on the span of his neck, tender, and he clenched his teeth. As much as he wanted to pull away from it, the power to do so just wasn’t inside him anymore. “ ‘m sorry kid.”

 

“It’s whatever.” Only, it wasn’t. 

 

They both listened to the mumbled conversation the other two had in the open space of the coffee shop, and Hank continued to sit with Gavin until he pushed himself up and declared they do something else. He tried to joke and shrug it off but Hank kept glancing at him in concern, sympathy, and it made something boil inside him. 

 

Gavin let Hank talk and he exchanged the briefest of sentences in return, catching up as much as they could with the time that they had left before Connor was calling for the familiar. People were lining inside the place and Niles would have to return to his post. And Gavin wanted to be out there, to watch, to observant, to protect.

 

As the two inched out to the world, he felt a nudge to his side and saw Hank beam at him. Optimistic and hoping, and he couldn’t _not_ do anything. Even if he emotionally felt like shit, even if the scar running jagged across his snout burned, the other scars aching with the phantom pains of being assaulted- Gavin nodded back. Tail swishing to hit the smallest part of the older’s flank before dipping to return to his own side. 

 

Hank walked to Connor, and the witch turned to him with a smile so bright it physically hurt Gavin to stare. So his eyes lowered. “Goodbye Niles, bye Gavin. I hope I see you again soon!”

 

And they walked out, Niles was already behind the counter and smiling at a customer. Another normie, he sensed. 

 

Gavin simply trudged his way under a table, almost hiding, but not quite.

 

He tried to ignore the feelings swelling like an overflowing dam in his heart, but it crowded his thoughts and didn’t leave. He felt another ache, different then the ones littered on his body, one that came from inside of himself.

 

He missed his home, missed his mistress, and the guilt and shame that came with not being able to protect her made him want to book it right out of the line of sight from everyone. Suddenly, he felt ungrateful. 

 

Suddenly, he felt undeserving. 

 

Felt like he shouldn’t be where he is, should’ve been the one to not make it out. 

 

His gaze found his witch’s, and he almost hiccuped. What a fucking person Niles was, and what had Gavin even fucking done to deserve it?

 

______________________________________

 

They closed at sundown, on the mark. 

 

Gavin walked behind Niles rather then beside him tonight, his tail dragging and his ears only half-perked. He was aware though and made sure no one was gonna get the drop on Niles all the way home. 

 

Niles entered, hand still on the door so Gavin could mosey his way through then shut it. The auto-locks clicked into place and the witch went straight to the kitchen. He would’ve followed but as soon as his paws lined up with the different set of tiles to wood, he thought better of it. He didn’t want to be in the way, to be a distraction. 

 

Come to think of it, Niles lived in a really _really_ nice place. And Gavin wasn’t the cleanest of familiars- he shouldn’t be here. His claws needed to be trimmed because they scratched the wood and almost left claw marks there, he wasn’t- _he should- ugh._ Not to mention that his coat wasn’t nearly as glossy as it should’ve been considering the high dollar beds Niles got him. He just ripped the stuffing out of fuzzy toys, which was a nuisances in itself to clean up but he did it anyway. 

 

He went to lay down inside the living room, there he could still keep an eye out but be away from the witch. Only, the couch was the only open space. And Gavin shouldn’t climb up there. He wasn’t suppose to be up there anyway, he wasn’t suppose to be in this fucking city anyway too. Grinding his teeth together, he turned tail and slinked away. He heard Niles call for dinner, a single sniff told him it was the leftovers from the night before. 

 

Normally he would be already waiting under the table or perched inside a chair beside the witch, but that wasn’t what he should’ve ever made a habit of. He should know his place- god, he didn’t earn any of this. Niles had never even really asked him to be his familiar, what was he doing? 

 

Gavin decided not to show up, eliminating the chance at ruining something else. 

 

He didn’t know where to go. The bedrooms were for guests and he really would be a total dumbass to climb into the bed that Niles dubbed as his- _it wasn’t_ \- and staring at it made him feel even worse. The dog beds were so plush and comfy, the collar he wore was expensive, probably. He needed to get it off- he needed to- to-

 

_Fuck!_

 

He twisted, hooked the damn thing on whatever edge he could and tugged, squirmed, pulled. It took a lot of turning and struggling but it managed to slip off because Niles never made them too tight. He was just thoughtful like that. And Gavin really didn’t fucking deserve that thoughtfulness. 

 

“Gavin!"

 

He ignored that too. 

 

He pressed his nails under the edge of the closet door and nudged it open with his nose. It was the only place that seemed small in the witch’s grand house. It was the only dark place, seemingly unkept if you didn’t count the old towels and rags. He’s never seen Niles use any of these and they about smelled the part too. Just where he belonged. 

 

He curled up under the bottom shelf. Ignored another calling of his name. He hid behind his own tail, sniffling and swallowing. He tried to muster everything up and squash it back down, bottle it all up and save it for another time. But that made it all explode. God he hated him and his stupid fucking emotions and his dumb fucking self. 

 

Niles called for him again, opened the fridge and crinkled a wrapper of some kind. He said it was cheese, his favorite, and the sound of a knife told him all that he needed to know. He was cutting them up into small cubes, all the perfect size, easy to catch in a certain canine’s mouth if he did a trick. 

 

He curled up tighter in his ball, shivered, but didn’t come out. 

 

He gets lost inside his own head, the minutes could’ve been seconds or could’ve went by like molasses but he hadn’t paid it any mind. And he jumped when a voice sounded right next to his ear.

 

“Hey, Gavin, are you alright?” Niles’s voice sounded silky, caramel running over smooth chocolate and almost creamy with a fluffy white top. 

 

He whines as an answer. 

 

Taking a peak he sees those gemstones shimmer, worry building in them. Gavin takes a breath in. He was messing things up again and he had tried so hard not to. Fuck, _fuck fuck._ He tries not to let Niles hear the shaky inhale he gives. 

 

“Are you sick?”

 

His concern makes Gavin’s heart bounce wildly in his chest but it also achieves the feat of damning him right to hell.

 

“C’mon, talk to me.” There’s a pause where he waits, he always waits for Gavin. “Please?”

 

His hand reaches out, hesitant at first but settles at the base of his skull. Fingers lick up his fur, scratches nimbly around his ear and punches out every fighting fiber that Gavin has left. Because Niles is caring and thoughtful, he’s kind when he doesn’t need to be, and he’s here. He’s here and he cares and he’s worried and he’s petting him-

 

Gavin needs his hands. 

 

He needs his warmth, his touch. He needs it all and if Niles ever pulled his hand away, he felt like he’d actually drop dead on the spot. He burns with the need and aches with the shit inside of him- he needs more, he wants more. His eyes are glassy and watery and he knows his breathing is probably really fucked up. 

 

He slips out, unsteady and scrambling- stumbling his way to the witch’s lap and climbing on. Arms wrap around him and bury themselves in the fur by his head, the other wrapping securely around him albeit awkwardly. And then- Gavin's _so stupid-_

 

He morphed. 

 

He transforms inside Niles’s arms and snakes his own around him, tight and embracing. He shivers and shudders because Niles doesn’t let him go or push him away. 

 

This must be a big fucking surprise but he handles it well, and the hand that always expertly stroked his ears now tangles into his hair and brushes through it. The other hand is now rubbing up and down his back, soft coos and shushing is brought out of the beautifully sweet mouth and all Gavin can think is velvets and caramels and fucking dazzling blue eyes. He hides in the crook of his witch’s neck, he’s aware that he’s crying and misty-eyed. He’s ashamed. 

 

Out of all the ways Niles had the opportunity to see him, the real him, it’s this way. 

 

Gavin had wanted it to be better, had wanted it to be special and maybe even a tad bit cliche. He wanted to be able to live up to the obvious fucking standards he currently fucking didn’t and make Niles proud. 

 

But he here is, sobbing and clinging like the runt he was. Shaking and sounding like a damn maniac as his body racked with the fits of his emotions. The pain throbs, he’s naked and on the very guy he’s vowed to look after and it occurs to him just how fucking messed up this all was. How fucked he had made it.

 

But Niles, _oh god fucking Niles,_ takes it all. Absorbs it even, and he doesn’t push away. He doesn’t let go. That makes Gavin cling tighter. 

 

“I’m sorry- _shit, Niles I’m so fuckin’ sorry- I-I, god-,”_ he mewled. Helpless and afraid. Afraid of what Niles was thinking, of what he’d do, of what he’d say. His legs were squeezing the witch as were his arms, he hadn’t meant to fuck up this bad but here he was. 

 

“It’s okay, Gavin. Breath. Alright? It’s fine, you’re fine. Try and breath with me, in and out.” Silk flashes through his brain. 

 

“Just like that, there you go, good boy. Exactly like that.” The petals of a flower, soft to caress and a sin to walk away from. 

 

“That’s it, perfect, good. You’re doing great, keep going for me.” Waves of the sea, a breeze rippling past them as they lazily lick up the line of a shore. Seashells singing into one’s ear, light and airy as it catches on the wind. 

 

“There you are.” He’s calm. 

 

He’s calm and safe. And Niles is still there, holding him. Pressing right back against him and softly squeezing the muscles of his arms. Easing him to lean back only just barely.

 

“Good boy.” And Gavin shudders, wiping at his eyes and hiding his gaze, utterly embarrassed. Niles must think he's a fool. “There’s my good boy.”

 

He hiccups, gripping tight on the fabric of Niles’s turtleneck and hunching his back. The material is as soft as he thought it would be sliding across his bare skin. So very different then how it passed over his fur. He liked it. Maybe liked it a bit too much and the person attached to it. 

 

“I’m _sorry,”_ He repeated. 

 

“Why’re you sorry?” 

 

“I promise I’m a good familiar.” It’s said on an exhale. 

 

“Who ever said you weren’t?"

 

And he freezes. Stuck in time as skilled fingers inch up and down the curve of his bare spine, drawing against the muscles of his back and working effectively to ground him. Gavin could never tire of those digits against his skin or his coat, and he was almost afraid of making Niles disappointed by telling him the truth. 

 

“When we first met, you took a knife for me. You had no reason to, and you had no business saving me. And yet, you did.” The hand in his hair falls only to cup at his jaw. A thumb passes idly over his cheek and Gavin’s breath hitches. His eyes are glued to the way those blue one’s shift and gaze. Like he’s burning the memory of something important into his mind. 

 

“I was fuckin’ alleyway _trash.”_

 

“Were you? Because I think differently.” 

 

Gavin can’t process that, he’s asking quicker then he can really think it through. “Why do you let me stay here?”

 

“Because I’m hoping, we can be more then just witch and familiar.”

 

He likes that. He likes that _a lot._

 

Seemingly frozen, Niles takes it upon himself to move first. A kiss, sweeter then all the one’s he’s had before. Filled with more love then he’s ever experienced, lingers in a way that isn’t a child’s excitement and presses back into his skin like an old lover saying hello. And Gavin is drugged, addicted, shot up through every nerve. He’s almost glad he doesn’t have his ears and tail anymore.

 

And if he doesn’t say anything, Niles doesn’t mind. 

 

He grabs his familiar strongly, pulling them both up and carrying Gavin to the bedroom meant for him only. He kicks his shoes off, lays them both down and doesn’t get the chance to do anything else because Gavin refuses to let go. There’s a chuckle, one that he feels roar down the depths of his consciousness and spring something too tingly and hot to be real in his gut. And this time-

 

Niles lays on _him._ Keeping _him_ warm. And this time, Gavin’s telling _him_ a story. A story that frightened him. 

 

But the witch does not leave, clings closer and nuzzles into the top of Gavin’s head. He plays with his hair and caresses the naked skin he can come into contact with. He’s soothing and he’s calming and he’s everything Gavin could ever need, want, or dare to hope for. 

 

And if Gavin’s falling asleep, Niles doesn’t mind. Instead, Gavin’s calling, “I wanna be your familiar.”

 

“You can be. You already were.” A kiss, against the crown of his head. The following one on his forehead. 

 

“I wanna be your’s, too.”

 

“You can be, and I can be your’s."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know man
> 
> I had this idea in my head for a while but I just,,,finally did smth with it???
> 
>  
> 
> might turn it into a series but god damn I don't even know 
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy, tho!!! and if u got the reference I threw in there ;) ur a fuckin furry <3


End file.
